Love Story
by sparklehunter
Summary: Famous!Seblaine. Sebastian Smythe decided to finish high school for a few reasons: 1) his best friend/schoolboy crush was at boarding school, 2) his baby sister was diagnosed with leukemia, and 3)and the tabloid photograph of him and some Disney boytoy in the backseat of the LA mayor's prized Tesla car on Hollywood. It might just be the worst decision of his life
1. Undercover Superstar

This fic idea was taken from a Klaine gifset somewhere on Tumblr, but it turned into Seblaine, so I feel kind of bad for admitting it. Dedicated to Dolly, because she let me convince her to love Sebastian.

All of Sebastian's songs are from Taylor Swifts albums. I did tweak them, but I tried to keep as few lyrics in the story as possible because of reasons I can tell you about if you really want to know. The title is also from Taylor Swift, but the chapter titles are mine.

All of Blaine's songs are by Darren Criss, and were not tweaked (i don't think).

* * *

**Love Story Part 01: Undercover Superstar**

Sebastian decided to finish high school for a few reasons, and he would admit to none of them.

The first was because his best friend/schoolboy crush was at boarding school when not flying all over the country rescuing kittens and performing in front of sold out stadium crowds. Devon's life was pretty much the most hilarious thing Sebastian had ever seen, and his own life could only be better if he was a part of it.

Second was that his baby sister was diagnosed with leukemia. She had the misfortune to live with his father and stepmother in Columbus, which was where his father had relocated the family after the scandal of divorcing his wife to marry his secretary. Sebastian did not see the little girl nearly often enough as it was, and had offered to move all three of them into his Malibu mansion to be closer to LA's state of the art hospitals. His father had decreed that one move in the last four years was more than enough. It was fine. Marina would probably prefer not to move across the country, anyway.

Third was the tabloid photograph of him and some Disney boytoy caught fucking in the backseat of the LA mayor's prized Tesla car on Hollywood Boulevard.

_"Is this was you call 'low-profile?'" Anita, his manager and mother hen, demanded._

_Sebastian eyed the full color front page picture, with words strategically arranged over himself and - Jake? John? Something with a J, anyway - critically. "I've done worse," he pointed out. "And I've had better."_

That was how he ended up enrolled in Dalton Academy in Westerville, Ohio.

His first day was spent closeted uncomfortably with his father and the school principal, going over the code of conduct and expectations and exactly how far he could push the faculty before his money and their patience ran out. Dalton made a big deal out of her anti-bullying policies and harassment-free campus, and the staff zealously aimed to be sure that Sebastian was aware that he would not be able to ignore the system just because he was a chart-topping popstar. "We don't often allow mid-semester transfers," said Doctor Voss. "When we do, they usually come from ... troubled circumstances. I hope, Mr. Smythe, you remember that several of your classmates are here to escape traumatic situations. At Dalton Academy, we aim to provide a safe environment that heals and overcomes the wounds of the past."

Sebastian nodded agreeably. "And I'm sure you give all students this lecture," he said, "and it's not special treatment based on what you've read in trashy tabloids."

After that, the meeting ended rather quickly. He traded uncomfortable goodbyes with his father _("I don't know what you hope to accomplish, abandoning your only success in your entire life to go to boarding school, but don't you dare bring anymore stress into this family. That means no drinking, no whoring, no drugs. I won't hesitate to get a restraining order on you if Sheila or Marina even hints you're causing problems.") _before being dismissed.

His father stalked out of the office like a house cat, wet from the rain and furious with the world for betraying his dignity. Sebastian was sure that it had been his stepmother's idea to send him with Sebastian on the first day. It was not like he needed his father around; if he had needed an adult present he would have brought his manager, not his father. Sheila (rightfully) blamed herself for the rift between her husband and her stepson, and so whenever he and his father were in the same state, she tried to meddle. Sebastian was not appreciative.

The door swung closed behind him, leaving Sebastian in the outer office to wait for his student guided tour of campus. He spun on his heels to see if the boy had arrived yet, and brightened to see an extremely familiar, extremely attractive boy flirting easily with Dr. Voss's secretary. Slate grey uniform pants were stretched tight across his ass, and the red sweater vest did good things to the breadth of his shoulders. Usually, the boy wore tight polos and fitted sweaters that showed off his narrow waist and muscled arms, but the Dalton uniform was a good look, too. Sebastian could appreciate the whole sexy blushing schoolboy thing.

Sebastian schooled his face to keep from smiling, and cleared his throat . "Dr. Voss didn't mention that she'd booked the best ass in the place to show me around."

There was a moment of stunned silence before the secretary said, "You must be Sebastian Smythe. The new student," in a voice like the Arctic tundra.

The student guide stood up straight from his lean over the desk and turned. His neck and ears and cheeks were bright with embarrassed color. Once he saw Sebastian, his mouth fell open and he sputtered in surprise. "B-Bas?"

Sebastian lost the fight, and his face broke into a grin. "Hello, Killer."

After a moment, presumably to process the shock, Devon said again, "Bas?" He looked as though he could not decide to be wary or pleased. "What are you doing here? I thought you were still in LA?"

"You _know_ each other?" the secretary asked, her eyes wide and searching from Sebastian to Devon.

The most hilarious thing about Devon's life was that he actually was an undercover superstar. Most of the world was unaware that while he may have been Devon, teen heartthrob and platinum-record selling artist by night, by day he was Blaine Anderson, Average High School Student. Average High School students, of course, did not know multi-Grammy winning artists like Sebastian Smythe.

He was pretty much Sebastian's favorite person, ever.

"Um," said Devon.

"He comes to every behind-the-scenes meet and greet in the state." Sebastian took pity on Devon. It was a little unfair to spring himself on the other boy and expect him to come up with a cover story. Also, Devon probably would have said that they had met at a benefit or something, and what was the fun in that? "He's my absolute number one fan."

"And you remember him? That's so sweet!" the secretary said, now sugary and warm. "I knew none of the things they tell about you in the papers were true."

Devon coughed and said, "He's something else, I know." He grabbed Sebastian's arm and dragged him forward. "I'll just start that tour, now."

Once in the hall and tucked into a corner away from prying eyes, Devon turned on Sebastian.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed. He must have decided to be wary. Sebastian frowned.

"I'm going to school," Sebastian said. "I've realized the importance of education, and vowed to graduate high school. Only I'm not going to pretend that I don't have a multi-million dollar mansion in Malibu and a separate room for all my Grammys and awards."

Devon peered up at him through black-framed glasses. "This is punishment because I called Anita when we crashed into that parking meter, isn't it?"

Actually, Sebastian had forgotten about that. "No, but that will come," he said. "Come on, Killer, it's been weeks. Don't I get a hug, not an interrogation?"

Devon sighed, but obliged, letting the subject drop. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Sebastian's shoulders. Sebastian nuzzled closer, smelling raspberries and Devon, and was content just to hold on.

All the words in his head _('it's just a routine test,' 'acute lymphoblastic leukemia,' 'you're your mother's problem', 'I won't hesitate to get a restraining order,') _that had kept him from sleeping, sent his spiraling into places and bodies he usually had enough sense to avoid, all quieted. Devon was small and strong, and he easily took Sebastian's weight. Sebastian's tight shoulders eased, the ache in his jaw faded, and the constant pulse of pain behind his eyes dulled. Devon's hands rubbed soothing circles up and down his back. He buried his face in the space between Devon's jaw and neck and breathed deep and slow.

Then he sneezed. "I forgot how much gel you use undercover," he said, and rubbed his nose against Devon's collar to get rid of the gel now coating it.

Devon made a face, and pulled back. "I like it," he said, resettling his glasses on his face. "And I'm pretty sure no one here even realizes my hair is curly."

"That thought actually makes me want to cry," Sebastian mused. "Did you get new glasses?"

The last time he had seen Devon in glasses had been in an LA hotel room, when Sebastian's fling had fallen asleep in his hotel room and would not wake up and be moved, so he had crashed with Devon. Devon had answered the door in pajamas, his hair frizzy from sleep and his wire-framed glasses crooked on his face. The new frames were thick and black instead of small and wiry, but still tinted. Supposedly it was to disguise the brilliant gold and green on his irises. They did nothing to dim his attractiveness. Sebastian had no idea how the world was fooled by a school uniform and some hair gel, but Devon had been attending Dalton since his freshman year, and no one was the wiser.

Except for Sebastian.

"I did," Devon said. "Do you like them?"

"Sexy schoolboy works for you, Dev," Sebastian said, just to watch to pink flood his friend's cheeks. He laughed lightly. "Are you going to show me around this place?" Midmorning sunlight flooded the wide windows and set the oak paneling and painted murals glowing.

Devon grabbed his hand and towed him forward. Sebastian's heart did a stupid little flutter in his chest.

"Alright," Devon said, amusement coloring his tone. "I'm Blaine Anderson, and I'll be your guide today. Dalton Academy was founded in . . ."

Sebastian let his voice drift into background noise, and focused on soaking it all in.

Devon. Dalton. Ohio. Something good was going to come of all this. He was positive.

It had to get better at some point, right?

Then, he found out about Kurt.

* * *

End Part 01

uploaded 9/26/2013

also available on tumblr thisisforficiswear

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Last Edited: 10/9/2013


	2. The Most Interesting Boy in Ohio

Sometimes I feel like I should apologize for this fic. It is shameless, self-indulgent fluff, involving a lot of cuddling boys and blushing. Forewarned is forearmed?

All of Sebastian's songs are from Taylor Swifts albums. I did tweak them, but I tried to keep as few lyrics in the story as possible because of reasons I can tell you about if you really want to know. The title is also from Taylor Swift, but the chapter titles are mine.

All of Blaine's songs are by Darren Criss, and were not tweaked (i don't think).

Specific songs referenced in this chapter:

"50 Ways to Say Goodbye" belongs to Train

* * *

**Love Story Part 02: The Most Interesting Boy in Ohio**

The rest of day one at Dalton went well. Devon spent most of the day taking him around the residential and academic campuses, showing him the best way to the fifth floor and which building had the best cafeteria (there were three cafeterias: one vegetarian, one in the dormitory, and one on the academic campus, as well as a little coffee shop in the administrative building). Then, Devon told Sebastian he was going to be trusted with Devon's secret hideout.

"Are you serious, Killer?" Sebastian demanded as they trekked across the frozen grounds to the dorms.

Devon said, "I think you've proven yourself trustworthy and capable of keeping secrets."

Sebastian fought through his grin to say, "I was actually referring to your secret hideout. What school has a secret hideout?"

The other boy gestured around them, at the clusters of ivy and brick buildings, the formal gardens, and barren oak trees around them. "We have a fifth floor that can only be reached by going through a classroom. Of course we have secret passages."

"I still feel like Ashton Kutcher is about to ambush me with a camera."

"Would I joke about a secret passage?" Devon asked.

Sebastian was forced to admit he would not. They entered the dormitory, which was darker than the main buildings, with heavy tapestries on the walls and mahogany accents instead of oak. The first thing that Sebastian had done, even before the meeting with the principal, was make sure his belongings had arrived safely in his dorm room, so he had already walked through the dining hall and common room. Obligingly, Devon skipped that part of the tour and lead him straight toward the stairs to the second floor, pointing out a painting every now and then, and letting him know that only a percentage of students actually dormed.

"We have about 250 students," Devon told him. "Most are day students, but there's about thirty-ish in the dorms with us."

"I know, I know," Sebastian rolled his eyes. "I did actually read what they sent me."

Devon raised a disbelieving brow at him. Sebastian stuck out his tongue.

"You promised me a secret passage, not a lecture on demographics."

"No reason I can't do both," Devon objected, but Sebastian noted they picked up the pace, and Devon pulled him up the stairs without discussing the wood relief paneling on the walls.

The second floor was less ostentatious than the first. The woodwork still glowed softly in the afternoon light, but it was not carved with elaborate vines and shapes. There were still heavy fabric wall hangings, but they were a little more faded and prone to depict less complicated patterns. Every ten feet or so there was a solid wood door, a number in brass fixed to the front.

As they came to the end of the hallway, Sebastian said, "So where exactly is this –" He fell silent when Devon shushed him.

Devon stopped at the end of the hallway, across from the lavatory, in front of a tapestry that took up most of the space between the last dorm and what looked like a supply closet. He glanced quickly around and, seeing no one, pushed aside a tapestry and disappeared. Sebastian stared for a moment, and then slipped after him.

He found a recessed door that Devon was holding open for him after the tapestry. Behind the door was a narrow stairway, badly lit and a little dusty. Sebastian could see Devon practically vibrating in excitement. He reached out and grabbed Devon's hand, squeezing tight, and Devon grinned up at him.

"There's a skylight that lets in some sun," Devon said, letting the door swing shut being them. "But if you come up here at night, bring a flashlight. There are no lights, and the stairs are steep." He started up the stairs, and Sebastian followed.

"They're only steep if you're pocket-sized."

"I will push you down these stairs," Devon threatened. "Then you'll see how steep they are."

"No, you won't," Sebastian said confidently. "You'd miss me too much."

Devon gave an inelegant snort, and let go of Sebastian's hand to pull a key out of his pocket.

"You have a key to your secret hideout?" Sebastian asked, not at all surprised, as Devon unlocked the door at the top of the stairs.

"What the janitor doesn't know won't hurt him," Devon muttered.

Sebastian grinned. "How unlike you, Dev. Did you steal it?"

"Shut up," Devon said, the tips of his ears turning red.

Sebastian laughed with delight. "You did! Just wait, Killer. Pretty soon you'll be staying out all night and skipping classes."

"You are such a bad influence," Devon said, mournfully, and pushed open the door.

The open door revealed a little room with ghost-like armchairs and a table and shelves along the walls. There were wide, stained glass windows high on the wall that spilled out colored light, and dusty footprints on the floor. There was a standing lamp by the only chair not covered with a protective sheet, but it was not very bright, and even after Devon turned it on, the edges of the room bled into shadow.

"Huh," said Sebastian. "Need's some cleaning."

Devon said, "It's a room you can only access through a secret staircase. Cleaning it hasn't exactly been my priority."

Sebastian took a few more steps into the room. "What has been your priority?" he asked, looking around. There was a stack of thin paperbacks and magazines on one of the end tables. Sebastian cocked his head as he read the covers. "The Flash … Goosebumps … are you actually five?"

Devon said, "I am sharing my secret hideout with you. No mockery allowed."

Sebastian said, "Do we have code names and a special handshake?" and laughed until Devon rolled his eyes with fond exasperation.

"You are the worst," Devon said. "I have no idea why I put up with you."

Day two, it got around the school that Sebastian Smythe was enrolled at Dalton as a student. It was actually pretty hysterical. He had a single dorm, and Devon knocked on his door in the morning before classes so they could breakfast together. When Sebastian opened the door, he felt a familiar rush of warm regard and desire spill through him at the sight of his friend.

"Good morning, Killer," Sebastian said, a little breathlessly. There had been a small part of him that had worried Devon would not want to be seen with him for fear his secret identity would come out.

The corners of Devon's bright eyes crinkled as he smiled up at Sebastian. "Good morning, Bas. Would you like to eat breakfast with me?"

Sebastian said, "Did you really need to ask?", threw on his blazer, and guided Devon down to the dining hall with one hand on the other boy's back.

When they got to the dining hall, there were far more than thirty faces looking eagerly at the door as they walked in. Every single table was filled past capacity. Sebastian was little taken aback, because he was pretty sure the entire student body, plus most of the teachers, was crammed into the small dormitory cafeteria.

"Dev?" he whispered under his breath.

Devon glared.

"Sorry. Killer?"

"Were you really expecting anything differently?" Devon whispered back.

Okay, that was a fair point. Sebastian should have been more surprised that this had not happened yesterday. He was kind of a Big Deal. Still, the two might have to go up to Devon's secret hideout to find a place to sit and eat.

Devon stepped away from his arm to lead them around the edge of the crowd into the serving line. He and Sebastian filled their trays and came out to find that one table had been abandoned while they had been getting food. Sebastian frowned, looking at the table, and then gave in to the silent pressure and lead his friend over to their expected place.

Once they sat down, the people around them started whispering furiously. Sebastian started to ignore them and eat, but was distracted by the small smile growing on Devon's lips.

"Blaine," Sebastian started to say, but Devon just pointed.

Sebastian turned to the open area by the doors, and found a dozen boys neatly dressed in the Dalton blazer, who seemed to be waiting for some kind of cue. Sebastian was just about to ask what was going on, when one of the boys stepped forward, and started to sing.

_"My heart is paralyzed, my head was oversized_

_I'll take the high road like I should."_

It was an a capella arrangement of Train's '50 Ways to Say Goodbye.'

Sebastian bent close so he could whisper in Devon's ear, and still watch the performance. "Did you know about this?"

"No," Devon whispered back. Sebastian's heart started to pound as the other boy breathed the words against his cheek. "I don't have anything to do with the Warblers."

Sebastian nodded, and dragged his full attention to the choir. They were pretty good, he had to admit. When Sebastian had been in grade school, before he had been discovered and whisked off to LA, he had been in choir. That experience looked nothing like what the – the Warblers, that was what Devon had called them – the Warblers were doing. It was more like the chorus line on a Broadway Show than a boys' chorus on risers singing hymns.

"They're impressive, aren't they?" Devon whispered to him.

Sebastian saw the longing on his face. "Why don't you join?"

"I can't sing," Devon said. Sebastian choked on his toast. Devon kicked him in the shin, and turned back to the Warblers.

When they finished, he complimented the group. "Not bad. Do you do this often?"

The lead soloist blushed. "We have three performances at school a year, and we're part of a national competition."

Sebastian asked, "Do you win?"

"Not as often as we'd like," said another boy, dark eyes unabashedly studying Sebastian. Huh. Anita sometimes looked at Sebastian the same way, like she was analyzing him and his actions and ability. Sebastian looked at the choir again. "Sebastian Smythe," he introduced himself, and held out his hand to the dark-eyed boy.

"Wes Montgomery," said the boy, shaking his hand firmly. "We're looking for new talent. We won Sectionals last week, so now would be the best time to integrate new members."

Sebastian held Wes' gaze. "Why do you need talent if you just won your last competition?"

Wes said, "We can win Regionals without you, I know that. But Vocal Adrenaline has taken nationals the last seven years running. I'd like to change that."

Sebastian considered. "Tell you what," he said. "Ask me again once I've been here more than a day."

Wes laughed, and the Warblers took that as their cue to get excited. As if that had been the signal everyone was waiting for, the rest of the crowd then surged up and demanded autographs and pictures. Devon eventually pulled him out and dragged him to class. Sebastian wrapped one arm around the other boy's waist and enjoyed the high from good music and a hundred stuttering fans and Devon, solid and warm against him.

Day three of his new school career arrived, and Sebastian was happy with the way things were going. His teachers seemed torn between treating him with kid gloves (because he was a pop star) and treating him like he needed a firm hand and a lot of discipline (because he was a pop star). The students still seemed to be in delirious shock. After Devon had been forced to rescue him from the first autograph mob, the other boy managed to guilt trip the entire school into leaving Sebastian alone except for during dinner, when all bets were off and he spent the entire time on autographs and photos. It was great for his ego.

Kurt, 'the single most interesting boy in all of Ohio,' was not

"Who exactly is Kurt?" Sebastian demanded. He was laying on Devon's – no, Blaine, he had to remember to call him Blaine – Blaine's dorm bed, watching his friend double check his hair and cardigan. "Why didn't you tell me you were dating?"

Devon looked at him through the mirror. "It's not a date," he said slowly. "And Kurt's a friend. He goes to school a couple towns over."

"You took twenty minutes to pick out a bowtie," Sebastian pointed out.

Devon blushed, and Sebastian bit his tongue. He was aware he was being a little ridiculous, but he felt possessive, and Devon was blushing and fixing his hair for some kid he had never heard of. Sebastian was supposed to make Devon stutter and blush. Who the hell was Kurt?

"I still don't know who this Kurt is," Sebastian said aloud.

"He's amazing," Devon said. "He's an artist, he does fashion design, and his voice is stunning. I've never heard anything like it before."

Oh really.

"He's … he's the most interesting person I've met in Ohio," Devon continued, softer.

"It's not like he has a whole lot of competition," Sebastian pointed out. "It's _Ohio_."

"Well, you're here in _Ohio_." Devon grinned, and turned to look at him. "So I suppose you're right, it's not stiff competition."

Sebastian grinned back. "Feeling feisty, Killer?"

Devon turned back to the mirror. "I cannot tell a lie," he sing-songed, and fidgeted with his bowtie

"Liar!" Sebastian accused. "And stop primping. You look gorgeous. I don't understand how this kid hasn't jumped you, yet."

Devon looked uncomfortable. "It's complicated," he said, softly.

Sebastian rolled off the bed so he could come up behind Devon and tuck the smaller boy into his arms. "Killer, you are sex on a stick, with or without hair gel. If he can't see that, why don't you stay here tonight, and I'll spend the time proving it to you?"

Devon rolled his eyes. "And you wonder why I haven't mentioned him before."

"What?" Sebastian asked, swallowing down the ache of rejection with practiced ease. "Are you deliberately keeping us apart, Anderson?" He squeezed Devon's shoulders tighter.

Devon settled against him, snuggling close. "He'd probably run off with you."

"Maybe he'd be up for a threesome," Sebastian mused. "What do you say? You, me, and Kurt makes three?"

Devon shook his head. "You are so out there," he said. "What are you even doing here in Ohio? Sometimes I think LA isn't ready for you."

Sebastian grinned. "Are you sure I'm not the most interesting person in Ohio?"

Devon laughed. "Get out of here."

Sebastian let himself be pushed toward the door. "Promise you'll stop in for a goodnight kiss before bed?"

"You, my friend, are ridiculous," Devon said, and shooed him into the hall.

* * *

End Part 02

uploaded 10/03/2013

Next Week: Sebastian isn't sleeping well. It's a good thing he has a best friend around to cuddle and make it better.

also available on tumblr thisisforficiswear

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Last edited: 10/9/2013


	3. Raspberries and Cologne

All of Sebastian's songs are from Taylor Swifts albums. I did tweak them, but I tried to keep as few lyrics in the story as possible because of reasons I can tell you about if you really want to know. The title is also from Taylor Swift, but the chapter titles are mine.

All of Blaine's songs are by Darren Criss, and were not tweaked (i don't think).

Specific songs referenced in this chapter:

"Our Song" and "We are Never Ever Getting Back Together" belong to Taylor Swift  
"Not Alone" belongs to Darren Criss

* * *

**Love Story Part 03: Raspberries and Cologne**

Two weeks into his new life, Sebastian broke down Devon's door on Saturday morning and begged for coffee.

"Is there anyplace in this entire state that makes a decent dark roast?"

Devon, still in his pajamas with his hair a disastrous halo around his head, rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Bas, it's five in the morning."

"I'm going through withdrawal," Sebastian told him. "Coffee. Please," he added, because Devon liked manners.

"We can't leave campus for another hour," Devon pointed out.

"It takes you an hour to get that hair under control, Killer. Also, I'm pretty sure no one cares if we leave a little early."

Devon groaned, and tried to close the door in Sebastian's face.

Sebastian used his superior 'I've-been-up-all-night-and-am-in-that-slightly-ma nic-stage-don't-test-me' reflexes to slip past him into the dorm. Like Sebastian, Devon had a single room, but unlike Sebastian, he had actually decorated. There were pictures of Devon's Dalton friends on the wall, posters of superheroes tacked up, and an awesome life-sized cutout of Sebastian, looking sultry and annoyed, on the back of his door. Sebastian had signed it the first time he had seen it, much to Devon's amusement.

For all the knickknacks and photos, though, there was little of Devon's music. There was a keyboard that he composed on in secret, but no guitar. None of Devon's many awards decorated the shelves. There was not even a print of stadium crowds and lights. Devon took the separation of musician and schoolboy a little too seriously.

"I'm going back to bed," Devon announced, interrupting Sebastian's train of thought.

"No, you aren't," Sebastian said, and pushed Devon into the bathroom to get ready.

He lay down on Devon's bed to wait. His eyes felt heavy and his bones ached, but he could not sleep.

He had gone to his father's the night before, to spend some time being yelled at and some more time with Marina. She looked worse every time he saw her. Before the diagnosis, she had looked fine. The tests had simply been a precaution. The first round of chemotherapy had changed that. Now, during her second round of treatment, she was tired and listless. Instead of asking Sebastian to spin her in circles, she curled in his lap and asked him to sing to her.

Last night, Marina had asked for a story, but Sebastian had not even gotten past "Once upon a time" before she fell into an exhausted, pained slumber.

Sebastian stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about it. The bed shifted as the weight of another person dropped onto it.

"Bas, what's wrong?" Devon asked, his voice low and soft, as he lay down next to Sebastian.

Sebastian turned to face him. Devon's wild mane had been tamed into straight, sleek lines. He was not wearing his glasses, and his eyes were gentle and worried.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Sebastian said.

"You don't have anywhere to be today. You can sleep here."

Sebastian yawned. "No. I want good coffee. You had good coffee Wednesday, and I want good coffee today." He squirmed to get more comfortable, until Devon was pressed against him from thigh to shoulder. Devon chucked, and Sebastian fell asleep.

The sounds of loud voices and a clattering in the halls woke him up, hours later. Sebastian was too cozy to grumble at the noise, and instead rolled onto his stomach and snuggled with the covers. Devon must have tucked him in; warm blankets were wrapped close around him, and his feet were definitely missing shoes. The blankets smelled like raspberries and cologne. For all the warmth and security of his bed, though, something was missing.

Devon was no longer on the bed. Sebastian frowned and looked around for him. The other boy was at his keyboard, headphones plugged in and alternating between scribbling madly in a notebook on his lap and playing silent notes.

"What time is it?" Sebastian yawned.

Devon said, "There's a clock next to the bed," not even looking up from his work.

"That would require moving," Sebastian said. He dug around his pocket until he found his phone. "11," he announced. "It's definitely time for coffee." He rolled out of bed and fixed his hair and wrinkled clothes in the mirror. "Come on, Killer, we don't have all day." He found his shoes half under the bed, and slid into them.

Devon started to pack up his work. "If you want good coffee, it's going to take some time," he warned. "The best I know is an hour and a half away."

"Excellent," Sebastian said. "Road trip. We'll take my car."

Devon, as an Average High School Student, drove a Toyota Camry, the least cool car ever. Sebastian had brought his Audi with him, though it mostly stayed covered in the student parking lot. His stepmother had offered to let Sebastian store his car at the Columbus house, but Sebastian had not been interested.

_"What would be the point in having a car if I had to take a taxi just to get to it?" he demanded of Sheila, back when she had first proposed the plan._

_"You could always be a day student," Sheila said. "But I actually thought you might not want to keep your car in the same lot as the rest of the boarders. I know how much you dote on that thing."_

_Sebastian did not dote on his car. He just liked to keep it looking nice. "Save it," he told her. "If someone scratches it, I'll just sue."_

"I wanted something a little less conspicuous. If we take your Audi, we'll leave a trail of photographers all the way to Lima," Devon disagreed.

That was a fair point. According to Devon, who had an in with the secretary, admission applications were up 200%, and most of the applicants were girls. Once the tabloids and magazines found out that Sebastian was at Dalton, they had staked out the school for days. The police had cleared them out every couple hours, and the commuters had to be chaperoned on and off campus. Sebastian himself had given up trying to control the paparazzi a long time ago. Their relationship was this: he thought, 'fuck this, it's my life,' and lived his life like they were not there. The paparazzi took shameless advantage.

However, the less attention he attracted, the less likely it was for some genius intern to put "Blaine Anderson" and his hair gel together with "Devon" and his skintight jeans.

"I still get to drive," Sebastian compromised generously.

Devon locked his notes in a file cabinet in his closet, and then tossed him the keys. "Don't get pulled over," he directed, slipping on his glasses.

They listened to the radio on the way to Lima, and sang each other's songs when they played. Devon butchered "We are Never Ever Getting Back Together" and Sebastian retaliated by singing "Not Alone" like a funeral dirge. Sebastian took a call from Anita, who asked if he wanted to do a charity gig for a school in Alabama, and Devon pried out details about the tabloid incident that had sent him to Ohio.

"Jaimie Gelleher? Really? You told me you thought he was actually a girl," Devon laughed.

"He pretty much is," Sebastian said. "It was not one of my better dates."

"Sex in the backseat is not a date," Devon teased.

"That's pretty much all my dates," Sebastian objected.

"And none of them are dates. So Anita sent you here as what, punishment? How are your dad and step-mom taking you being so close?" Devon asked.

Sebastian shrugged, and focused on passing an SUV that was going just a mile over the speed limit. "Sheila wanted me to commute. She's mostly given that up, but she's still trying to get me to spend weekends at home. That's usually the part of the conversation when Father starts drinking."

"And Marina?" Devon asked.

Sebastian hesitated. "She's fine," he finally said, even as he pictured her sunken eyes and papery skin.

"Liar," Devon told him, gentle and kind.

"Fine. She's happy that I'm around more, but ... she's sick. She's not doing well with the treatment. She spends most of the time sleeping." Sebastian scowled out the windshield and wondered how Devon always managed to get him to talk.

Devon reached out and squeezed his hand. Sebastian tangled their fingers together and felt a little better.

"It's nice having you here," Devon said, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a rampaging rhino.

"It has been one of my better plans," Sebastian agreed.

Devon laughed. "Praise junkie."

"You said it first," Sebastian pointed out. "I just don't believe in false modesty."

"I did, didn't I?" Devon gave in. "It's nice to have someone who I don't have to ..." he drifted off, but Sebastian could supply the rest of the sentence.

Someone he did not have to pretend around. Devon was always hiding half of himself away. He was Devon onstage, in LA, on TV. He had a whole circle of friends and hangers-on who only knew that bubbly, sexy, larger than life personality. Here in Ohio, he was only Blaine, and his friends knew nothing of the passion for music and the life he had built for himself outside of Dalton's walls. Sebastian had known both halves for their entire friendship.

"And here I was worried you were going to spend all your days avoiding me. Actually, I had some sexy scenarios in my head, where you went sidling down hallways and I chased after. We usually ended up in an empty classroom."

He watched Devon flush and stutter, "Y-you're crazy."

"I know," Sebastian said, too quiet to be heard, and turned the radio up. "You're up, Killer."

Devon smirked. _"You were riding shotgun with your hair undone in the front seat of my car,"_ he sang in the worst French accent Sebastian had ever heard.

It went both ways, of course. Devon never had to pretend around Sebastian, could be comfortable in their friendship and confident that Sebastian would keep his secrets. Sebastian never felt judged by Devon, never felt like he was wrong for his actions, never felt like his sex life was some sort of problem. When they had first met, Devon had been an amusing diversion. Later, he was a much-needed shield against the entire world. Now, he was the best thing to ever happen to Sebastian.

"One day, I'm going to post a Vine of you like this," Sebastian said, when Devon paused for breath. "Let's see how many love letters you get once the internet knows what you really sound like."

"Sebastian," Devon said kindly. "You say this like I haven't posted a video like that myself.

Sebastian threw back his head, and laughed.

They were both laughing when they finally got to the Lima Bean ("_Is that really the name? I can't decide if that's clever or kitschy_").

"You wouldn't dare." Devon grinned as they walked into the building. Their game of one-upmanship had reached new levels that included before-the-stylist-came photos and bad poetry with triple-cross promises to never be mentioned in company, ever.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Sebastian asked archly. "Would you care to place a wager on that?"

"I still have those photos of you and that girl from New Years. Don't push me, Smythe."

"I've had worse printed," Sebastian said, which was true.

Devon said, "Not in the last year, you haven't," which was also true. He turned to the barista. "Can I have a medium drip? And a large red eye for my friend, please."

The cafe was busy, with most of the tables filled with large groups of teenagers giggling over their drinks. Sebastian placed his hand on Devon's back to guide him through the crowd to the counter where their drinks would end up.

Sebastian said, "This coffee better be worth it. I swear, there's more people crammed in this shop than the last club I was in." There were more than half a dozen people waiting with them, and Sebastian eyed an infant on his father's shoulder suspiciously.

"It's worth it," Devon promised.

"Blaine!" a voice came from across the room, before Sebastian could respond.

Both Devon and Sebastian turned to look for the voice. Sebastian did not see anyone, but Devon's face lit up and he waved. Sebastian watched, amused, as Devon conducted an elaborate mime that probably meant the two of them would join whoever was so desperately calling as soon as possible.

"A friend?" Sebastian asked, dodging around the man and infant in front on them as their drinks were announced.

"Yes," Devon said happily, accepting his coffee. "Come on. You get your wish. You're going to meet Kurt Hummel."

* * *

End Part 03

Uploaded 10/9/2013

Next Week: Sebastian, meet Kurt. Kurt, meet Sebastian.

Also available on tumblr thisisforficiswear


	4. Mutual Discourse

Thank you for all the kind words! I really appreciate them.

In case anyone was curious, this will be updated every Wednesday until complete.

Thanks to Dolly, for being perfect, as usual.

* * *

**Love Story Part 04: Mutual Discourse**

Coffee in hand, Devon headed straight for a table near the far window, where a handful of teenagers were seated with shopping bags and coffee cups. Sebastian trailed after. So this was Kurt, the boy Devon had been blushing over. At least he had good taste in coffee.

"Kurt!" Devon said.

A boy, a willowy brunette who was so flaming gay he unironically wore a neckerchief, stood and hugged him.

"I didn't know you were coming to Lima today," said Kurt, in a high, breathy voice that did not fit at all with the image of "Kurt" Sebastian had built up in his head these past few weeks.

Really? This was Devon's type?

"Bas wanted coffee," Devon explained, and stepped back so he could introduce Sebastian. "Kurt, this is Sebastian. Bas, this is Kurt Hummel, Rachel Berry, Tina Cohen-Chang, and Mercedes Jones."

"Charmed," Sebastian said, easily.

"Wait," said Tina, her dark eyes going wide as she looked from Sebastian to Devon. "Is that Sebastian Smythe?"

"I'd heard he was going to school in Ohio, but he's here at the Lima Bean? With Blaine?" said Mercedes.

Rachel squeaked.

"He can hear everything you say," Devon said, his voice so mild that none of the girls probably realized he was teasing them.

"It's always nice to meet my fans," Sebastian said, smiling.

"Oh, we aren't fans," Kurt said, coldly.

Sebastian leaned back on his heels, raising one brow challengingly, and Tina gave a nervous chuckle.

"That would be an understatement," she said quickly. "I've loved you since 'Our Song' was released. I've been to all your concerts in Columbus."

Her attempt to play peacemaker worked. Rachel and Mercedes jumped in with questions and compliments, leaving Devon free to talk quietly with Kurt to one side.

Sebastian settled against the table and let the girls monopolize his attention. Several people around them in the cafe were whispering excitedly, and he noticed more than one flash go off as people took pictures. He had a feeling it was going to be a long afternoon.

"I can't believe I'm getting coffee with Sebastian Smythe," Mercedes marveled. "Can I get a picture?"

"Just don't post it until after I get out of here." Sebastian obliged, leaning across the small table so he could fit in the frame with the girl.

"I won't!" Mercedes said, wide eyed.

"How did you meet Blaine?" Tina asked, once Sebastian was upright.

"We're both at Dalton," Sebastian said. "It turns out that he's their go-to guy for student tours. Possibly because he's the only one in the school who actually knows about 19th century relief carving."

"Quiet, you," Devon said, and went right back to talking to Kurt like he had never interrupted himself.

Sebastian stuck his tongue out at the back of his friend's head. "He's not bad, even if he does use an entire bottle of product in the morning."

The girls giggled.

"So why are you here in Ohio?" Mercedes asked. "I mean, it seems like an odd place to go when you have a beachfront home in Malibu, a penthouse apartment in New York, and two more in Paris and Venice."

"I sold the place in New York!" Sebastian objected. "And I had almost forgotten about Venice. How did you know about Venice? Nevermind, I don't want to know." He laughed as Mercedes flushed. "I have family around here. When I decided to take a break and finish high school, it just made sense to take some time with my family, too."

Rachel, who had been mostly silent up until that point, finally burst out, "Can I meet your agent? Is she accepting new talent? I'm sorry, I'm Rachel Berry," and here she thrust out her hand for Sebastian to shake. "I'm going to be a famous Broadway star, and I wanted to know if you had any tips for an aspiring singer."

Sebastian blinked, detangling his hand from hers. "Advice? Well, don't give up. Everyone you meet will be against you. When they put you down, use it as fuel and rub it in their face." He considered for another moment, taking a bit of cookie off Rachel's plate even as she nodded enthusiastically. Mercedes and Tina looked slightly horrified. "Sing every chance you get. Sing at weddings, sing at bars, sing at karaoke night and at coffee shops. Sing when they boo you off stage, and get up there and sing the next day. Just sing." He hesitated, then added, "and if there's one person in your life who makes it brighter, and is always there for you, and is always on your side, don't lose them." He refrained from looking at Devon.

The three girls melted. "Are you talking about –" Mercedes started, but was cut off by Devon.

"Hey, I'm going to get Kurt and the girls refills. Do you want anything while I'm up there?"

"Food," Sebastian said, flatly. He stole another piece of Rachel's cookie off her plate.

Devon smiled. "Will do. See if you can get us some chairs, alright?" He threaded his way back to the front counter.

Sebastian turned his smile on the table beside them, and got two more chairs. He dragged them close to the table, between Tina and Kurt, tossed his coat onto one to save it for Devon, and tucked his long limbs into the other.

This time, Tina squeaked, turning bright fuscha now that she pressed against him shoulder to thigh in the crowded cafe.

"Hi again," Sebastian said to her, fighting back a smirk. She gulped.

"Hi," she said back, staring into his eyes. "Can I get a picture, too?"

Sebastian started to say yes, but was interrupted.

"Let's get one thing straight," Kurt said, his voice once again bitingly cold.

Sebastian turned from Tina to face the other boy.

"I know why you're here," Kurt continued, "And it's not going to work. Blaine isn't one of your Hollywood whores. He won't sleep with you because of cheap moves and bad music. Why don't you skedaddle back to your gold-plated bathrooms and leave Blaine alone."

Really, what did Devon see in him? He was not attractive, he sounded like a girl, and he was more judgmental that Sebastian. And Sebastian did not have gold plated bathrooms; that was just tacky.

"Well, as hot as Blaine must find your desire to control who he can and can't be friends with, I'm going to have to say no. I'm pretty sure you're just a prude projecting your own fears about sex and your inability to get fucked because you look like a thirteen year old girl onto someone who is sexy, successful, and definitely not a virgin."

Kurt went white, and then red, and Sebastian could almost see steam pouring out of his ears.

"Okay!" Rachel said. "I respect both of your opinions and approve of mutual discourse as a problem-solving method, but I think that if we don't talk about something else, this conversation is going to end up on the news tonight, and that is not how I want to get my first national television appearance."

Sebastian glanced around to see the people at the tables around them were quiet and staring at them. Most looked away when Sebastian met their eyes, but some, like the couple three tables over, were unashamed or even filming the entire scene. Sebastian waved to the camera.

Kurt flushed brighter. "I haven't said anything I don't stand by," he said defiantly.

"Are you talking about your obsession with Lady Gaga, again?" Devon asked, coming back with tray filled with drinks and food. He set the tray on the table and nodded his thanks to Sebastian, who had stood to help pass everything around the group.

"No," Mercedes said, once Sebastian and Devon were seated again. "We're talking about his obsession with Devon."

Sebastian, who had started attacking his sandwich as soon as Devon was settled, almost started choking. Devon's ears turned red.

"Devon?" Sebastian demanded.

"I firmly believe he's one of the greatest musical talents in our generation," Kurt said swiftly. "His lyrics are amazing, and his ability to combine jazz and Broadway standards with pop music is nothing less than genius."

"Well, we agree on something," Sebastian mused. This was hilarious. "Did you know he was such a fan?" he asked Devon.

Tina said, "As if anyone doesn't know about Kurt and Devon's legendary love affair."

"One day, we will meet, and he will realize we are soulmates," Kurt said.

"I'm sure," Devon said, sweetly.

Sebastian started laughing. Devon kicked his chair.

"What?" Mercedes demanded, insulted by Sebastian's mirth. "It's not like you've had any luck with the boy!"

"Actually, I was in his bed just a - Ow!" Sebastian rubbed his thigh where Devon had pinched it. "You are violent today," he muttered under his breath.

Devon said, "I think Devon just likes his privacy."

"I think someone at this table knows something he's not saying," Tina said, giving Sebastian a meaningful look.

Sebastian said, "Many things, most of which you're too young to know. Did you mean something in particular?"

"Devon is not dating Sebastian Smythe," Kurt growled.

Tina looked at Sebastian.

"Sorry, ladies," he said. "Devon would kill me if he knew I was gossiping about him. If he was really upset, he might go into an interview and say I hurt his feelings, and his legion of fangirls would find me and gut me."

Kurt said, "We can only ho -OwW! Rachel!"

At the same time, Devon turned to Sebastian and smiled brightly. "I'm sure your own legions would protect you."

"I can only hope," Sebastian said, gravely.

Kurt said, "Anyway, Blaine, Sugar couldn't come, something about her dad, so we have an extra ticket to so see Mama Mia at the community theater in an hour, if you want to come with us."

"Exciting," Sebastian muttered.

"Oh," Devon said, actually looking torn. "I'd love to, but Bas and I only have the one car, and I can't abandon him in Lima for that long."

"I can drive you back to Dalton tomorrow," Kurt said. "It's not a problem. We were going to have a girls night, anyway."

Sebastian gagged. "As banal and quaint as that sounds," he said, "Blaine and I have plans."

"We do?" Devon asked.

"We do," Sebastian confirmed. "Don't look so scared, Killer, it's not even a little illegal." Beside him, Tina started.

"Oh, well, in that case," Devon said dryly.

"It's the last weekend of the show," Kurt wheedled, glaring daggers at Sebastian.

"Is that for you, Popstar?" Mercedes interrupted.

The entire table turned in the direction she pointed.

A veritable horde of cameramen were in the parking lot, peering through the windows to see in side. Some of them were gesticulating wildly, others were snapping photos with long lenses. Sebastian turned away.

"Wow," Tina said.

"Photographers!" Rachel squealed. "How's my hair?"

"Well, we weren't exactly being subtle." Devon chewed on his lower lip. "Bas? Do you want to sneak out the kitchen or go straight through them."

If he had been out with anyone but Average High School Student Blaine Anderson, Sebastian would have gone straight through the paparazzi. He probably would have (badly) answered a few questions, too, and ended up with Anita calling to dress him down when the story aired. Devon always had been a good influence.

Except for that time they crashed into the parking meter.

"Want to make a break for it out the back?" he asked Devon.

"Or you could go alone, and Blaine could come with us," Kurt challenged.

That - he had not considered that. Would Devon consider that?

"Let me be the one to talk to the girl behind the counter," Devon said, as though he had not heard a work Kurt said. "Come on, Bas, let's see if you can outrun the crazed mob."

"Blaine," Kurt objected.

Devon's face softened, looking down at Kurt. His eyes were large and made promises Kurt did not seem capable of recognizing, much less reciprocating.

"We'll see something on Broadway over break," Devon said. "Christmas isn't that far away."

"Come on, Killer," Sebastian said, helping Devon into his coat, and, conveniently, drawing him away from Kurt. "Go convince the manager to help us sneak out."

"Be prepared to sign something," Devon warned, as he headed for the counter.

"You really want to make him go through that?" Kurt demanded, gesturing wildly at the papparazzi.

Sebastian paused in pulling on his own coat."I don't make D-Blaine do anything. He's old enough to make his own choices." He finished buttoning and turned and followed Devon up to the counter, to help charm the manager and escape.

"So, was the coffee worth it?" Devon asked, once they were in the car and on the thruway, with no sign of pursuit.

Sebastian, who had relinquished the keys to Devon, snorted disparagingly. "I've had better."

Devon gave him a look.

"But not in Ohio," he admitted. "Do you think we could get them to deliver?"

Devon laughed. "To Dalton?"

"Maybe I should get Anita to send me a PA," Sebastian mused. Devon continued laughing quietly beside him. Sebastian said, "Are you okay with not going with your girlfriend?"

"Sebastian," Devon sighed. "Don't make comments like that. And he's just my friend."

"All right, all right. It's just the voice and girl's sweater honestly confused me," Sebastian professed. "And it's not for lack of trying on your part," Sebastian said, a little too harshly. "You are really obvious, and he's an idiot. And his hair is practically in another time zone."

"I like his hair!" Devon argued. "It's so manageable."

"Hey. Don't knock the curls."

"It would just be nice to have hair that didn't turn into a fluffy ball of static as soon as there was a little humidity."

"Hey," Sebastian said again, "Don't knock the curls."

Devon smiled. "So where are we going?"

"Columbus," Sebastian said. He had been expecting the question ever since he had told Devon they had plans. He could have dragged Devon out for dancing, or to an actually decent show, or even just spent the night marathoning Marvel movies. Instead, he said, "My father's house. I want to see Marina."

_I want you to meet Marina, just in case._ Devon probably knew what he was not saying.

Sebastian slouched down and stared out the window. Devon reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Does she like ice cream?" he asked brightly. "There's this great little dairy on the way that makes their own flavors. Maybe we could pick some up?"

"No need," said Sebastian. "You're more than enough."

* * *

End Part 04

Uploaded 10/16/2013

Next Week: Sebastian had always sort of meant for Blaine to meet Marina. Now was as good a time as any, right?

Also available on Tumblr thisisforficiswear


	5. Hostile Takeover

Thank you to everyone who said something sweet :) You are wonderful people! Thank you again!

Thank you to gleedimples on Tumblr for graciously offering to beta this unrepentantly, irredeemably fluffy piece of fiction. All mistakes are my own, anything decent is due to her time and influence.

And thanks, of course, to Dolly, because you are amazing and sweet and my favorite baby sister.

* * *

**Love Story Part 05: Hostile Takeover**

Marina Smythe was the only good thing that had come out of Sebastian's parent's divorce. She was five years old, green eyed and red haired, and covered in freckles and good cheer. For the first three years of her life, Sebastian had resented every mention of her. He ended up babysitting every day for a month one summer, and had been converted by her generous hugs and adorable giggle.

Now that he thought about it, that was pretty much how Devon's hostile takeover had gone. One second he was thinking about the other boy's ass and mouth and the next he was sighing over the way Devon's eyes sparkled when he laughed. Clearly, he had a weakness for bright smiles and warm hands.

Sebastian made an effort to visit his sister at least once a month. He usually flew into Columbus and rented a car, making a weekend trip in between recording his new album and sleeping his way through Hollywood's list of eligible men. Now that he boarded half an hour away from his father's sprawling estate, he visited twice a week or more.

His father's estate was large enough to be intimidating, locked behind a gate and guardhouse (though it was all automatic, and no guard was actually there), with a mile long driveway and acres of gardens. The house was stone Tudor, with thirty rooms and the air of a home that had been in the family for generations. Sebastian's father had bought it after the divorce.

Devon stopped outside the gatehouse so that Sebastian could enter his key, then drove up the long drive and parked close to the front porch.

Six months ago, Marina would have been waiting for him on the top step, and barreled down the front walk to meet Sebastian. She might have tripped on her way down, and Sebastian would have carried her into the house and bandaged her knee. He would have told her, "I should buy you a suit of armor," and kissed the scrapes better, as long as no would was there to see.

Today, the front stairs were empty. There were no lights on in the house. It looked lonely, cold, and intimidating.

Devon asked, "Is anyone home?"

Sebastian opened his door. "Sheila and Marina will be. I don't know about Father." He left the car and headed up the walk, speeding up once he heard Devon following close.

"I still feel like I should have brought a gift," Devon said.

Sebastian had vetoed the ice cream because Marina had a hard time digesting rich foods. "You don't need to bribe her to like you, Dev." He opened the front door and ushered Devon in. "After you."

The inside of the house was just as elegant and understated as the long drive and stonework. The foyer was stark white marble and rich mahogany wood. There was a large, framed portrait of Father, Sheila, and Marina on the far wall, flanked by curving staircases that wound upstairs to the second floor. The family bedrooms were on the second floor. Sheila kept talking about moving Marina into one of the first floor guest rooms, but no one wanted to admit Marina might be sick enough to require it.

Devon's indignant voice pulled Sebastian out of those dark thoughts. "It isn't bribery!"

Sebastian closed the door behind them. "You keep telling yourself that." He took Devon's coat and scarf and hung them with his own in the coat room. "Marina should be upstairs."

"It's polite to bring a gift to the hostess," Devon argued as they walked upstairs.

"I think that means you should be bringing me a gift," Sebastian teased.

"I bought you coffee," Devon shot back.

"It was good coffee," Sebastian admitted. He stopped outside Marina's door. "Wait here a second. I want to make sure she's awake."

Sebastian slipped quietly into Marina's room, leaving Devon in the hallway. The room was dark, with the curtains drawn tight over the windows. Her nightlight was out again, and he was left stumbling to try and find the small lamp on Marina's desk. He tripped over something on the floor and, cursing, kicked it out of his way. It took him two tries and a probably broken Barbie doll to get the light on. He turned to Marina's bed and found her staring solemnly up at him, the lack of hair making her green eyes look huge in her gaunt face.

"Hi, Bas-Bas," she said. "You woke me up."

Before the cancer, Marina had called him by his full name. It had taken almost her full five years to learn how to pronounce all the syllables, and he had treated her to cake and ice cream as a reward, and encouragement. She had regressed back to Bas-Bas once the chemo started.

"I broke your - who is this? Ariel? - doll, too," Sebastian said, sitting next to her on the bed. "It's just one of those days."

Marina twisted to rest her head on his lap. "It's okay, I don't really like Ariel, anyway," she told him seriously.

Sebastian laughed. "Oh, don't you? I thought she was your favorite?"

"Nuh-uh," Marina shook her head. "Rapunzel's my favorite." She pointed at a new doll, with long blonde hair, snuggled under the covers beside her.

"I see," Sebastian said. "Are you and Rapunzel ready to wake up? I've got someone I want you to meet."

Marina said, "You brought Devon over?" Her eyes grew big and round. "But I'm in my PJs!"

Marina knew that Sebastian was friends with Devon, but had never asked to meet him. She was a little young to keep secrets, so Sebastian thought it would be easiest to introduce to her Devon as Blaine, and keep the fiction that Devon lived in California. "It's my friend Blaine," Sebastian said. "He goes to school with me. He won't care that you're wearing-" he paused to check, "Hello Kitty pajamas. Want to get up and go downstairs?"

Marina nodded. "Can we play music? I can show Blaine my guitar."

"Um," Sebastian said. There were a whole lot of reasons he did not want Devon to know about Marina's guitar. Most of them had to do with his own guitar skills, or lack thereof, and Devon's tendency to tease.

His response seemed unneeded, anyway. Marina was climbing out of bed and into her slippers and robe and knit cap. Once she was wrapped up and cozy, Sebastian grabbed her hand and lead her out of her room.

Devon was studying the pictures on the walls as he waited for them. When the door opened, he turned away from a posed picture of Marina and her mother, and knelt down to offer his hand to the girl.

"Hi, Marina," he said. "I'm Blaine." He smiled.

Marina squeaked. She stumbled back against Sebastian's leg, and shyly pressed her face into his hip. Devon's smile gentled.

Sebastian bent down when Marina tugged his shirt.

"I thought you said he wasn't Devon?!" she hissed, outraged, in his ear.

Sebastian stared at Marina, and then at Devon. Devon looked just as stunned, then he shrugged.

"It's my secret identity," Devon told Marina. "You must have magic powers, to be able to see through it so quickly."

Marina peeked out at him. "Why do you have a secret identity?" she asked.

"He likes to rescue kittens and butterflies," Sebastian said.

Devon gave him a wry look. "I have a soft spot for hopeless cases, too," he said.

Marina said, "Really?" with a look on her face like she had seen the dawn. "My Daddy says I'm a hopeless case!"

Sebastian swore. Devon's smile faltered, and he reached out to touch both of them, one hand curling around Sebastian's fingers and the other on Marina's shoulder. Marina flushed and stepped out from behind Sebastian.

"Do you want to hear me play?" she asked, her fingers still tangled in Sebastian's shirt.

"Of course," Devon said.

With great ceremony, Marina led them downstairs to the playroom.

"Where's your Mommy?" Sebastian asked, once they came to the double doors. He had kept his eye out for Sheila on the trip through the house, but his step-mother was nowhere to be found.

"She's napping," Marina said, pushing open the doors.

Marina's playroom was at the back of the house. It had huge windows and French doors that opened up to one of the flower gardens. Sheila had installed a little playground in the garden, with a wooden castle and merry-go-round, but it was too cold and snowy to go outside. The playroom itself had a plush red carpet instead of marble or hardwood floors, and washable paint so Marina could draw directly on the walls. There were far too many toys for one small girl, especially one who spent most of her time asleep or watching movies.

Marina ushered them into the room. "This is my playroom. Bas-Bas and me play popstar here, and kitties, and horsies." She crossed the room determinedly, and missed the smile Devon shot Sebastian.

"Kitties?" Devon whispered.

"It's good that she still plays let's imagine games," Sebastian defended.

Devon grinned at him. "You amaze me," he said.

Sebastian said, "Pay attention to the five-year-old, Killer."

Devon obligingly turned back to Marina, who was dragging a tiny guitar case across the room to them. "You sit there," she pointed at a low couch on the wall with the door. "I gonna play a little, and then we can all sing, and then you guys can play."

"She's very opinionated," Devon murmured to Sebastian as they sat. "She reminds me of someone, actually. There was this guy, he burst into my room and demanded coffee. Do you know him?"

"Shut up and listen," Sebastian said.

* * *

End Part 05

Uploaded 10/23/2013

Revised 10/24/2013

Next Week: Sebastian's coffee addiction is going to get him into trouble, one day.

Also available on Tumblr thisisforficiswear


	6. Avoiding Trouble

Thank you to gleedimples on Tumblr because she is amazing and is betaing for me and is a generally wonderful person. :) Thank you!

Also, thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, liked, followed, favorited, or just generally was supportive. I really appreciate it!

For Dolly, because of reasons.

* * *

**Love Story Part 06: Avoiding Trouble**

"I have a dilemma," Sebastian told Anita over the phone the following Tuesday.

"Good to hear from you, too, Sebastian," she said. "My weekend was lovely, thank you for asking. I'm thrilled to be on the phone with my favorite popstar at six-thirty in the morning."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You wake up at five to go running every morning, I bet you're already on your way into the office. I'm certainly not interrupting."

There was a pointed silence from his manager. With great effort, Sebastian managed not to sigh or roll his eyes (again). "Good morning, Anita, queen of my heart, woman behind the mask, the driving force behind all the great music in the world."

"That's better," Anita said. "Good morning, cash cow. Why are you calling so early on a Tuesday?"

"Make a woman a fortune and this is the thanks you get," Sebastian muttered. "Anyway, I have ... two questions. One you might need legal for, but I doubt it."

There was a sudden choked sound from his phone. "What did you do this time? I thought you promised to keep out of trouble?"

"I'm actually calling to avoid trouble," Sebastian said.

There was a long, suspicious pause. "Alright," Anita said slowly. "Are you feeling okay, kiddo?"

"There's an a capella choir at Dalton." Sebastian ignored her question. This phone call was actually Devon's fault. The other boy had started prattling on about fairness and taking advantage of his fame, and possible something about skittles; Sebastian had stopped listening at about the same moment Devon had started gesticulating wildly and flexed his biceps. The things he did in the name of his best friend's good opinion.

"Alright," Anita repeated.

"I want to join. Tell me it won't cause any PR disasters or accidentally get the Warblers disqualified from competition if I join."

("What's the worst that could happen?" Devon had asked. "She says no? So you don't spend Tuesdays and Thursdays in practice until five, and you get to sleep in every Saturday.") When he put it that way, Sebastian had no idea why he wanted to join the Warblers.

But the Warblers were incredibly talented musicians, and Sebastian had a weakness for good musicians. Their version of Train's "50 Ways to Say Goodbye" had been truly impressive, something Sebastian was not usually quick to admit. The group was also allowed ridiculous amounts of slack, from bending curfews to being allowed access to the faculty lounge. Thirdly, Devon desperately wanted to join, and just as desperately tried to pretend he was a horrible musician. If Sebastian joined, Devon would green with envy (and at least have a reason to stalk their concerts).

"I actually already know the answer to this," Anita said, her voice colored with amusement. "You're fine, as long as you don't accept payment as a group for performance services. I asked Jerry to look into it as soon as you told me you were finishing high school at an Ohio prep school."

Oh. Well, that was good. He made a noncommittal noise.

"Get me tickets to your first competition. Now, what was the second question."

Back on firm ground, and off the questionable topic of him actually trying to avoid trouble, Sebastian said, "Do you think it's worth the risk of running into an extremely unpleasant and judgmental acquaintance to get decent coffee?"

"Yes," Anita said, immediately.

Sebastian laughed. "Well, I better go inside, then. Waiting in the parking lot probably makes me look crazy."

"If only making you look sane was as easy as keeping you from loitering," Anita said, wistful. "Get your coffee. Go to school. Don't get into any fistfights. And if you yell at anyone, make sure you're defending a puppy or something. If you crash into a parking meter, I'm letting you rot in jail."

"Liar," Sebastian accused, but his manager had already hung up.

Actually buying his coffee was less stressful than he had imagined. The Lima Bean had a handful of sleepy customers, two baristas on duty with the manic look of college students high on Redbull, and a lot of empty tables. No one gave him a second look, and he had almost turned and left to return to campus when he heard a familiar grating voice.

"Why exactly did you buy a travel mug for him? He's nothing but a Hollywood whore who makes trashy music." Hummel. Probably insulting Sebastian, given it was the same vitriol Sebastian had heard from him last week.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and stopped on his way to the door. There was a small, mean voice urging him to confront the girliest gay in Ohio. There was a second, quiet voice, one that sounded an awful lot like Devon, that informed him he heard worse all the time, and to keep walking.

"Hey," a second voice said sharply, cutting off Sebastian's internal debate. He recognized that voice, as well. Devon. Angry Devon, actually, his words clipped and harsh, instead of soft and sweet. "Don't say those things. There is nothing wrong with Sebastian. Don't call him names." Sebastian warmed at his defense.

He looked around to find the two sitting almost out of sight behind a half-high wall, with greenery around then and their coats draped over a nearby table. It was probably a bad idea to insert himself into the conversation, not matter how badly he wanted to take Hummel to task. Sebastian had a lot of experience with people who hated him, his sexuality, and his music. If Hummel thought calling him a whore with bad music was an insult, he should start looking at TMZ. He would be the bigger person, and not get involved.

Eavesdropping was a completely different matter.

Sebastian slunk into a table conveniently blocked by faux greenery and sat, his back to the duo, and pretended to drink his coffee.

"I can't believe you like him. Or his music," Hummel muttered. "You know he only wants you for one thing."

"Kurt," Devon warned.

"Fine, fine," Hummel sighed. "It's just been one thing after another. I'm worried about you and that ... singer at Dalton; Dad's been back and forth from Washington so frequently he's started to get permanent bags under his eyes, I'm terrified he'll have another heart attack; my NYADA application is a disaster, and what if I end up stuck here in Lima for the rest of my life? My Facebook wall was just the last straw. I just needed you to make things better."

"I don't mind the early morning," Devon said. "You can call me anytime, you know that."

"I just ... sometimes it's so hard. I hate it, I can't wait to get out of here, I just want everything to get better."

"There's only a few months left. Then we can go to L.A., or New York, or wherever you want," Devon said.

"That's easy for you to say, you got out," Hummel argued, his voice going cold again. "You don't get judged the moment you walk in the door. You don't get 'die fag' written all over your Facebook. You've probably got ten colleges lined up begging for your acceptance. It isn't so easy for us public school boys who can't hide what we are. I'm never going to be anything that that fag from McKinley who sounds like a girl."

Hummel was an asshole. Sebastian tightened his grip on his coffee, and held himself back from turning on the whiny, selfish loser with delusions that his life was misery and letting him know exactly how pathetic he was. Did Devon count as a rescued kitten?

"Hey, hey," Devon said, his voice soothing. "You'll be accepted. They'd be crazy not to take you. You're amazing."

Devon was a pushover. He let people hurt him, and never stood up for himself, and always had a kind word to say about his detractors. If there was an award for the nicest star in Hollywood, he would win, hands down. That core of sweetness and civility was one of the (many) things Sebastian liked about Devon. However, listening to Devon just take the abuse and thoughtlessness his supposed friend made Sebastian's blood simmer. Sebastian took a sip of his too-hot coffee, and used the burn on his tongue to distract himself from the burn in his veins.

"Maybe," Hummel said, unconvinced. "But I've got to get to school. We have an early rehearsal for our assembly performance." Chairs scraped against the floor; Hummel and Devon must have stood.

Sebastian hunched further down in his seat and angled his head toward the wall.

"You want me follow you to school?" Devon asked.

"No," Hummel said. "I dragged you all the way out here already, if you come to McKinley with me, you'll miss your first class. I'll see you this weekend, though."

No. Sebastian thought viciously. You won't. He's doing an interview in L.A. and a benefit in San Fransisco. You can treat your other friends like shit, that one will be busy being rich and famous.

"I can't," Devon said regretfully. "I thought I told you. I'm going to stay with my mother for the weekend. We could do dinner when I get back?"

Hummel said, "You're going away? Again? Blaine!"

"Sorry," Devon said, softly.

"You're always sorry," Hummel snapped. Then, "Let's not fight. Okay, come here. I'll see you next week. Thanks for coming out and listening to me vent."

"No problem," Devon said, as Hummel sashayed out of the Lima Bean, right past Sebastian.

Once Hummel was gone, Sebastian stood, spun, and dropped into the seat across from Devon. He set his coffee carefully down, and waited for Devon to notice him. Devon, seated again, was now stirring his drink with an abject frown on his face and no indication he would notice if a gorilla burst through the windows and held the place up.

Oblivious, Sebastian thought fondly.

"What a bitch," Sebastian announced.

Devon started. "Bas!" he said, eyes flying from his drink to Sebastian's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted a decent cup of coffee before I submit to the mind numbing boredom of eight am Chemistry," Sebastian explained. "And then I heard someone with a voice like silk velvet and thought, 'Hey, I know that voice. It's Blaine!' And there you are."

Devon flushed, and his lips twitched unwillingly in a smile. "So you drove all the way to Lima before school for coffee?"

"I'm not the only Dalton senior here," Sebastian pointed out.

"Kurt called," Devon explained. "He was upset."

"That's one word for it," Sebastian said. "Personally, I might have chosen pissier than a 13 year old before her first period, but that's just me."

"I take it you were listening, then?" Devon gave him a look that somehow combined disapproval with a tiny hint of 'I really do think you're funny, I just won't admit it.' Sebastian smiled back. Devon gave up. "It's hard to be gay in Ohio."

Sebastian said, "I actually was aware of that." He reached out and grabbed Devon's hand, tracing the small surgical scars. "I don't see you taking it out on everyone one else, though."

Devon shuddered and swallowed. He squeezed Sebastian's fingers. "He doesn't know about that," he said. At Sebastian's unimpressed look, he elaborated. "He knows there was an incident, and that's why I transferred. I don't really like to talk about it, so. I never told him ..."

"How bad it was?" Sebastian offered. "Killer, don't make excuses. He's an ass."

"Everyone has bad days," Devon said. "You don't know him enough to judge. I wish you'd stop."

Sebastian sighed. "All right, you're right. I'm sorry. I just don't like the way he treats you."

Devon smiled up at him. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "I'm a little short on sleep, and I'm taking it out on you."

Sebastian snorted. "D-Blaine, that was not snapping. That was barely a censure." He needed to be more careful about the name, he mused as he grabbed up his coffee. "But we have to get going, anyway. We've got a 90 minute drive to fit into 60 minutes. I might be okay, but can your Camry even hit highway speeds?"

Devon checked his phone. "It's almost seven?"

"You're going to be late to class," Sebastian teased. "Come on, get your coat. You can ride with me and we'll make it. I'll send someone to bring your car back to campus."

"You don't actually have a PA here in Ohio," Devon reminded him. "You don't have anyone to send."

"I'll call Anita," Sebastian said. He held Devon's coat out for him, and smoothed down the lapel once the other boy had turned back to face him. "Besides, I hear you bought me coffee. The least I can do is get you back to Dalton on time. I would be more than willing to show my gratitude in other ways, just keep that in mind."

Devon rolled his eyes. "The ride will be more than enough," he said, tucking his scarf around his neck. "And exactly how long were you eavesdropping?"

"Long enough," Sebastian said dryly, holding his coffee in one hand and placing the other on Devon's back to guide him to the door.

They were well on their way back to Dalton, weaving in and out of the morning traffic, when Sebastian remembered his talk with Anita.

"I spoke with Anita," he told Devon.

Devon made an inquisitive noise.

"She said it's fine if I join the Warblers," he said, smugly.

"Really?" Devon was unconvinced. "She's not worried about how the press will take a Grammy winning artist joining an amateur a capella group for competition?"

"She asked for tickets," Sebastian confirmed. "I told you, it would be worse if people found out I had been asked and refused."

"Right," Devon patronized.

"You're just bitter because you can't join without giving away that you have more talent in your pinky finger than the rest of the group combined," Sebastian said cheerfully. "Whereas I am not pretending to be an Average High School Student, and am free to join as many school music groups as I can fit into my busy schedule."

"Why do I always hear capital letters when you say that?" Devon asked.

"Because there are definitely capital letters," Sebastian said.

Devon had nothing to say to that, and Sebastian glanced over to see him smiling and gorgeous in the passenger seat. He wanted to ask, 'Feeling better, Killer?' but the answer was obvious.

* * *

End Part 06

Uploaded 10/30/2013

Next Week: Sebastian joins the Warblers

Also on Tumblr thisisforficiswear


	7. Warbler

Thank you gleedimples on Tumblr for betaing and not falling into a diabetic coma during the process.

Also thank you to anyone who gave feedback, you are wonderful gorgeous people

For Dolly (:

"Sparks Fly" and "You Belong With Me" belong to Taylor Swift.  
"Don't You" belongs to Darren Criss

* * *

**Part 07: Warbler**

A few hours before his first practice with the Warblers, Sebastian dragged Devon to one the Dalton's empty practice rooms and forced the other boy to help him practice.

"Have you ever done a capella before?" Devon asked, sitting down on the piano bench while Sebastian shut and locked the door.

"No," Sebastian admitted, and then considered. "Well, not beyond singing in the shower. And sometimes with you, or when I'm driving or distracted and don't realize I'm singing. When I'm fine-tuning lyrics. Not professionally, thought."

Devon nodded. "It's important to remember you don't have anything to fall back on, and you need to listen. You won't have a piano or guitar to correct your pitch."

"The Warblers create their own accompaniment," Sebastian pointed out.

"True," Devon said. "But that also means it's very easy to throw each other off. Let's try something. What are you auditioning with?"

"I'm not auditioning," Sebastian said. "I was invited to join." He relented. "I will perform a piece at my first meeting. I was thinking 'Sparks Fly.'"

Devon grinned. "You never cease to amaze me," he said, for no apparent reason.

Sebastian raised his brow. "Is that a problem?"

"No," Devon said. "Are you ready? I'll give you the starting note. You take it from there. Are you ready?"

"Always," Sebastian said. The single piano note hung in the air like a bell's clear ring, and Sebastian started to sing.

_"The way you move is like a full on rainstorm, and I'm a house of cards."_

Sebastian focused on his chest and throat, on the shape of his mouth and the air he breathed. The sound was dark and needy, close to begging and almost hoarse with desire. He avoided looking at Devon. He knew what the other boy looked like when Sebastian performed, the open delight at the music and friendship that flushed his cheeks and brightened his eyes. It made traitorous hope fill him, but this was work. Getting distracted by his sexy best friend was off the table.

_"Oh, baby, smile … And the sparks fly ..."_

He finished, and looked back at Devon. There was the fond grin he was expecting.

"I don't know why you asked for help," Devon complimented him. "You were amazing, as always. Your voice gives me chills, Bas."

Sebastian smiled back at him. "You want to join me, this time."

"I can't," Devon said, looking at the door and then the piano.

"The room is soundproof," Sebastian said. "No one will know. Come on, Killer. Live a little."

Devon bit his lip. "One song," he said, turning to fully sit at the piano.

"'Don't You,'" Sebastian said immediately. No one had ever accused him of being subtle. "I'll start. Come on, Dev, we've got the room for another hour. Let's make the most of it."

They played right up until the Warblers' meeting at four. After their duet, Sebastian did not have to coax Devon into singing. Devon played the melody to a new song he was writing, and Sebastian talked about his hopes for his new album.

"Do you think it's too obvious if I write a song called 'Like a Girl,' that it's about Jaimie Gelleher?"

Devon said, "Sometimes I can't tell if you're joking, and it worries me."

Sebastian grinned. "I could write a song called 'Sex on a Stick,' instead."

"I could write a song called, 'My Best Friend is a Psychopath, Why am I Okay with That?'"

Sebastian considered. "I think it has potential."

_"My best friend thinks he's a rock star,_

_He drives around in a fancy European car_

_He pops his collar, he thinks he's so cool-_

_Doesn't he realize we're at a private school?"_ Devon crooned.

"What does that have to do with being a psychopath?" Sebastian critiqued.

"I admit, it's in the early stages." Devon smiled. "That'll be the chorus, anyway."

When the alarm on Sebastian's phone went off, signifying the end of their jam session, they packed up reluctantly.

"Good luck," Devon told Sebastian.

"I'm expecting to hear that song at your next gig," Sebastian said. "You want to come with me? You could try out, too. You'd look great in the blazer."

Devon reluctantly shook his head. "I can't sing, remember?"

Sebastian stared down at him, studying the other boy's wistful smile. "You know, you don't have to do this," he told Devon. "I know why you started this way, but you don't have to finish high school with no one knowing your name."

"Blaine is my real name," Devon pointed out.

"It's bigger than the name, Killer," Sebastian said.

Devon looked down at the ground, licked his lips, then looked back at Sebastian. "I can't, Bas. I - not until I finish high school. Mom would - Mom -"

"Don't strain yourself," Sebastian sighed. "I'll drop it. Go do your homework or whatever else you math geeks do after school. I have a club to go dazzle." Sebastian could feel Devon watching as he walked away.

There were good reasons for Devon to hide, Sebastian knew that. Or at least, there had been. Back before Devon was Devon, Popstar, he was Blaine, the adorable quiet kid who was beaten into a coma for being gay. Once Devon had been signed, he had refused to go back into the closet. He wanted other gay kids to have a role model and a success story. Pretty much everyone had been against the idea, from the record company to his agent to his mother. The company had been afraid a gay star would fail. His agent had wanted an easier sell. And his mother had been terrified he would get hurt again.

The compromise was Devon. Devon would sell the album. Blaine would attend a safe private boarding school. Devon would sing in bars and clubs and stadiums, progressively bigger venues he kept selling out. Blaine wrote English papers and finished his math homework on time. It had worked for years.

But Devon no longer needed to hide. He was of age, his fan base was huge and, quite frankly, terrifying, and he was safe at Dalton. His mother was not even in the picture anymore. Neither Blaine nor Devon was an expert in disguise. That year alone, Devon's manager had paid off at least two photographers to keep the secret, and Sebastian had no idea why it even needed to be kept.

There was a chance it was because Kurt Hummel was a judgmental asshole with a debilitating inability to forgive, in addition to his mind-boggling inability to see that his best friend and popstar crush were the same person.

Sebastian threw open the doors to the Warblers' practice room, and belted out,

_"You're on the phone with your boyfriend; He's upset,_

_He's going off about something that you said_

_'Cause he doesn't get your humor like I do._

_I'm in my room - it's a typical Tuesday night._

_I'm writing lyrics to a song he wouldn't like_

_He'll never know your story like I do._

_You call him Prince Charming_

_He's chasing after glory_

_I'd ask you for a dance_

_But that's not in your story_

_I dream about the day when you wake up and find_

_That your fairy tale ending was here the whole time."_

There was a moment of stunned silence when the last 'you belong with me' died away, followed by a furious uproar. It was a positive uproar, Sebastian noted.

"Was that new?" Jeff asked. "That must be new. I've never heard that song!"

"Can we do that for Regionals?" Thad wondered.

"Very nice, Sebastian," Nicholas said.

"Thank you," Sebastian said. "I don't know. It's probably going to be on my next album, but that's still in the planning stages."

"I think we have one of our Regionals soloists, at least," Thad said, looking meaningfully at Wes and David

"Order, order," Wes said. "We will discuss all this in due time. In the meantime, I'd like to introduce the group to our newest Warbler, Sebastian Smythe. Sebastian, if you'll have a seat next to Jeff. Now, has everyone had a chance to go over the new music I sent out?"

People made various noises of affirmation. Sebastian leaned back in his chair and and tried to let go of the performance high enough to focus.

* * *

End Part 07

Uploaded 11/06/2013

Next Week: Things go wrong.

Also on Tumblr at thisisforficiswear


	8. Crisis

For Dolly

Thanks yous all around! Thank yous to Gleedimples on Tumblr for betaing, thank yous to everyone who reviewed or responded or gave some sort of feedback, thank yous to Taylor Swift for writing music. Thank you!

"Never Grow Up" belongs to Taylor Swift.

* * *

**Part 08: Crisis**

It was all too good to be true, and Sebastian should have realized it. There were signs that everything was about to fall apart. He just had been soaking up the good: Devon's warm regard, Marina's twice weekly cuddles, the Warblers' excited practices. He went to his scheduled gigs on weekends, had periodic meetings with his record label, and wrote scraps of lyrics in his notes. Even his father seemed to begrudgingly approve of him. Looking back, it was inevitable he manage to screw everything up.

And when he finally did ruin everything, he could not even manage to ruin his own life. Instead, he ruined Devon's.

The phone call came at 3:41 on a Thursday, while the Warbler's worked on their choreography. Sebastian left his position to answer his cell, ignoring Wes's dirty look.

"Smythe," he said into the phone.

A watery voice on the other end said, "Seb? You need to come to Children's Hospital right away."

Sebastian froze. The world went fuzzy around him, and he staggered. He grabbed one of the chairs to keep himself from falling. He heard his name as if from a great distance.

"-eb? Seb? Sebastian?"

Sheila. He was talking to his stepmother.

"What's wrong with Marina?" he said. He did not recognize the sound of his own voice. It was flat and lifeless. Everything bright and warm had drained down out of him, leaving him icy and terrified and nauseous.

"They admitted her an hour ago," Sheila said. "The doctors ... The doctors said to make sure everyone who wanted - who loves her sees her. You need to get down here."

Sebastian dropped his phone. He thought, No. People were around him, reaching for him, talking at him, but he did not process them at all. He pushed through the Warblers and staggered to the door.

"Devon," he said. "Where is Devon?"

He did not expect or need an answer. He knew where Devon was, in his Thursday study group, in the second floor library. There was a big test in AP Calculus tomorrow. Devon had been complaining about it all week, about how no one understood indefinite integrals, and-

Someone had grabbed his arm.

"Sebastian," said David, once Sebastian had turned to look at him. "Do you need us to call someone for you?"

Sebastian tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry. He swallowed, and started again.

"No," he said, and pulled away. He walked upstairs almost dazed, not realizing that half the Warblers were following at a concerned distance, whispering worriedly amongst each other. It seemed to take forever to cross the hallways, climb the stairs, push open doors. Actually finding Devon took no time at all. Sebastian stood in the doorway and looked out and saw Devon, standing over another boy's shoulder, gesturing emphatically.

Sebastian said, "Devon," and his voice broke mid syllable.

There was a furious whisper behind him. Sebastian did not pay any attention. Devon and everyone at the study group had looked up, questioning. Sebastian walked forward until his was standing next to Devon, and pleaded,

"Devon."

Someone said, "Oh my God."

Devon was pale as he looked up at Sebastian. "What?" he said, sounding just as stunned and fragile as Sebastian felt. "I don't understand."

Sebastian said, "It's Marina." It felt like the world was ending, and he needed Devon to reach out and grab him and anchor him onto solid ground. "She's in the hospital. They don't know, they don't know-" Sebastian's knees buckled, and he fell.

Devon caught him. "Hey," he said. Trapped in his shock, Sebastian could not see the raging emotions as they crossed the other boy's face. Devon pulled him close, letting Sebastian bury his face in the curve of his neck, clutch desperately at his sweater, and just held tight. "I'm here," Devon murmured. "Come on. Sit down and tell me what happened." He maneuvered the two of them away from the group, toward one of the reading nooks created by shelves and windows.

Once they were curled together in an armchair, Sebastian said, "Marina's in the hospital." A choked whimper escaped him, and he started to sob soundlessly. He was sprawled across Devon's lap, head tucked under Devon's chin and burrowed close to his chest. The smaller boy wrapped him up in his arms and stroked down his spine to help calm him.

He felt the flex of Devon's neck and chin as the other boy held him close. There were droplets of water on Devon's neck, smeared onto the other boy's skin by Sebastian's wet eyelashes. Sebastian struggled to calm enough to talk. Devon hummed quietly, and Sebastian heard it start deep in Devon's chest and throat.

When Sebastian's broken breaths calmed down, Devon said, "Okay, Sweetheart. Which hospital is she in?"

Had Sheila said? "I - I don't," Sebastian groped for words. "I don't know. I don't - What if she dies? What if she dies, Dev? I don't-"

"Shhh," Devon soothed, and kissed his hair. "Okay. I'm going to call your stepmother and find out some more details. Then we'll go to the hospital together. It's going to be okay, Sebastian."

Sebastian nodded. "Fuck," he said. "I'm sorry for falling apart."

Devon sighed. "I know, Bas. It's okay. Let's not focus on that, okay?"

Sebastian allowed Devon to lead him out of the library and into student wing. He did his best to ignore the stares and whispers, tried not to think about how his breakdown was going to be all over the news sites in minutes. That only led to thoughts of Marina, her sickly body white with pain on a hospital cot. There was no safe path.

He held tight to Devon's hand.

Once they made it back to Devon's dorm, the other boy pressed Sebastian down onto the bed and pulled out his cell phone. Sebastian wrapped his arms around his calves and put his head on his knees. He stared at the fabric of his slacks, counting threads to avoid listening to Devon talk to Sheila about his sister. Eventually, Devon came back to him, sitting beside him on the bed and sliding an arm around him.

"Alright," Devon said. "She's as Children's Hospital in Columbus. She has an infection, and she's not doing too well. The doctors are trying to stabilize her, but there's some organ damage and they're having a problem getting her fever under control."

Sebastian swallowed back a whimper.

"I've called a car. We're going to go to Children's. Anita is setting up private security, and she's going to take care of the school. Hey. Hey, look at me." Devon turned Sebastian's face toward him.

Sebastian looked into Devon's eyes, drawing strength from the faith and stubborn resolution he found there. For once, Devon's eyes were more green than gold. Sebastian reached out with one hand and cupped Devon's cheek. Devon gave him a small smile.

"She's going to be fine, Bas."

Sebastian said, "Okay," very quietly.

Calling a car had been a good idea. Neither of them were in any condition to drive, and it allowed them to sit close and draw comfort from each other. Sebastian lay with his head in Devon's lap, and Devon ran his fingers through Sebastian's hair. It was a quiet ride to the hospital. Sometimes Devon would get a text, and he would stop petting Sebastian so he could respond, but neither of them spoke a word.

When they arrived at the hospital, Devon seemed to know exactly where he was going. He did not stop at the receptionist's desk or look at any of the coded maps on the wall, just took them straight to an elevator and hit the button for the fifth floor. Sebastian gripped his hand tightly and was content to be led.

"I have a meeting I can't miss as six," Devon said, when the elevator doors opened and the two of them stepped into a waiting area filled with chairs and tables.

Sebastian held his hand tighter. "What?" he asked.

Devon looked back over his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes soft and sad. "I'm hoping it won't take too long, and I'll come back as soon as it's over. Sheila and your Dad will be there, too, and Anita's catching the next flight."

"Why?" Sebastian said, his voice gruff and raw. "Dev, I-" need you, but Sebastian could not spit out the words. Devon probably knew them, anyway.

Devon stopped walking and turned around to face him. He reached up and cradled Sebastian's face in his hands, bringing Sebastian's hand up, as well. There was something very sad in Devon's eyes, and Sebastian was starting to think more was going on than he suspected.

"Devon," he said, hoarsely.

"Bas," Devon said, looking straight in his eyes. "Bas, I know you didn't mean, I know." Devon stopped fumbling for words and took a deep breath. "I swear I'll be back as soon as possible. You don't need to worry about it, okay? Just worry about Marina."

Sebastian tried to think beyond the terror of Marina's crisis, but he kept circling back. Finally, he licked his lips and said, "You make things better, Killer."

Devon smiled. "So do you," he said. "Come on." He withdrew from Sebastian, turning to continue through the halls. Sebastian held tight to his hand, resettling their fingers now that they were walking.

They went through a set of double doors marked 'Authorized Personnel Only,' and washed their hands and donned gloves and caps before they continued. They ended up in a wide open room, a nurse's station in the center, and lined with glass windows kept private by drawn curtains. There was a nurse at the desk who looked busy, and Sebastian's father was slumped against the wall of one of the rooms, his head in his hands and his suit crumpled and worn.

Sebastian had never seen his father look that bad. His mouth went dry and the terror, pushed down by Devon's reassurance and warm hands, roared back at full force.

Devon paused, and looked up at him. "Hey," he said. "Breathe, okay?"

Sebastian had not realized he had stopped. He drew in a few ragged breaths, until Devon was satisfied, and then they walked to Sebastian's father.

Gilbert Smythe did not look up as they approached. "She's in there with your mother and a couple nurses," was all he said. "They're running another test."

Sebastian's temper flared. "And you're out here, feeling sorry for yourself?" he demanded.

Sebastian's father did not rise to the bait, and did not say anything else. Sebastian and Devon went into the room.

The first thing Sebastian saw was the crowd around the bed. Two nurses were leaning over it, one with a vial in her hands and the other with his back to the door. Then he saw Sheila, standing helplessly at the foot of the bed, wringing her hands. The room was beige and green, with an armchair and lamp shoved off to the side, and dominated by the hospital bed in the center.

In the center of the bed, her face stained with tears and her skin flushed bright red from fever, lay Marina. Her eyes were closed and bruised deep purple. She was hooked up to a respirator and an IV, and there were a dozen monitors Sebastian could not name watching her. Sebastian felt sick.

Devon grabbed his shoulder and held him tight. "Bas, look at me. Come on, turn a little and focus on me. Okay?"

Sebastian struggled to tear his eyes away from his sister and look at Devon.

"I know it's scary, but you need to calm down, okay, Bas? Come over here. As soon as they finish drawing blood, you can go talk to her, but right now why don't you sit down?" Devon eased him around the bed and people, and over to the armchair. Sebastian sank, unthinking, into the seat, still trying to look at Marina. The view was momentarily blocked by the female nurse, until she bagged the vials in her hands and purposefully left the room.

Devon forced Sebastian to look at him, caught his eyes and held his gaze. "It's going to be okay," he said.

Sheila made a quiet sound, and left her post at the bed to come to him, finally seeming to notice them. "Oh, Sebastian," she said.

"Are you going to faint, kiddo? I know it can be scary to see, but she's in very good hands," the male nurse said.

Sebastian shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. He pushed Devon and Sheila back, and moved toward the bed. "Can I touch her?" he asked.

"Gently," the nurse advised.

Sebastian reached out and rested his fingers on Marina's shoulder. His vision blurred and he blinked back tears.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, sounding very young.

"We think she has a virus," said the nurse. "The chemo knocked out her immune system, and we think she caught something. She's on an antiviral right now, and we're doing bloodwork."

Sebastian nodded. "Is there-" he had to clear his throat to continue. "Is there anything I can do?"

The nurse looked at him sadly. "Just try and get her to remember there's a reason to fight," he said, and left.

Sebastian had no idea how to do that. He looked back at Sheila's devastated face, and realized he was not the only one.

Devon said, "Try singing. She likes it when you sing."

Sebastian said, "I don't know if I can."

Devon wrapped one arm around him and rested his head against Sebastian's shoulder. "Come on," he said.

"Your little hand's wrapped around my finger,

And it's so quiet in the world tonight.

Your little eyelids flutter 'cause you're dreaming,

So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light."

Sebastian's eyes burned with tears. "Please," he rasped. "Devon."

"I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart,

And no one will desert you," Devon continued.

"Just try to never grow up, never grow up," Sebastian whispered.

Devon released him. "I have to go," he said regretfully. "I'll be back as soon as possible."

Sebastian let him go, and turned back to Marina to try to finish the song. As he sang to his sister, he thought that he might change the song, because there were words and ideas in it that just weren't true. He thought he could write it better, now. At some point, Sheila moved to sit in the chair, and he sat at Marina's bedside.

He sang until his throat ached, and the tears from earlier and the strain of grief caused his voice to crack and break. He sat in silence afterward for a long time, until Sheila said. "I'm glad you came." She stood and moved so that she was beside him. "I know Marina would want you here."

Sebastian stared at Marina's face, memorizing the line of her brow and the curve of her lower lip. "You don't get the monopoly on loving her," he said.

Sheila took a deep breath and tried again. Sebastian wished she would stop, and understand they were never going to be friends.

"I didn't know Devon went to Dalton with you," she said. "That was nice of him to bring you here. And have you told Marina that you've been bringing him over? She must have been thrilled."

For the first time since she had called him, Sebastian was drawn completely out of his thoughts of Marina. He turned slowly to look at Sheila. She was holding Marina's free hand, and very gently running her fingers over the knuckles.

"What?" Sebastian said.

Sheila looked up at him. "That's why you've been bringing him over, right? For Marina? I didn't realize it was Devon, at first. I thought it was just a school friend. But it makes sense, now."

"That's," Sebastian said, and pieces started to click into place.

The whispers from his friends as he looked for Devon in his high school.

The betrayal on Devon's face when he had walked into the library.

The sadness in Devon's eyes as he told Sebastian he had to go.

The dawning realization from the Warblers, the study group, everyone who was close enough to hear him fall apart as they realized that-

Sebastian had told everyone Devon's secret. Blaine's secret.

Sebastian stumbled back from the bed and sank back into the chair. He looked from Sheila, to Marina, and back. His mouth was parted to speak, to deny the mistake, but there was no denial.

"Sebastian?" Sheila asked. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, Kid," a voice came from the doorway. "You look awful."

Sebastian turned to the door, to see Anita, dressed in a sharp grey suit and gloves and mask, standing in the doorway. His father stood behind her, no longer appearing quite so dazed. A surge of relief filled him at her appearance.

"Anita," he said. "I think I screwed up, again."

* * *

End Part 08

Uploaded 11/13/2013

Next Week: Introducing Anita, and Blaine and Sebastian talk

Also on Tumblr at thisisforficiswear


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